Initiation Rite
by LittleKnux2008
Summary: When Christy Hemme decides to take a hazing by the WWE Divas into her own hands, she realizes how much she has to learn...and that it's always easier having a friend along. R&R please!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Okay... Yet **another** new story. (Feels like I'm saying that again and again nowadays!) But, in defense, So I Need You is sadly hitting its climax and beginning to end. So...there. Lol. Anyway, I really hope you guys like this story, and I'm sorry if Christy is a little OCC. Well, please review!

**Spoilers:** 10/4/04 (For future chapters, look at the date below the chapter. The chapter will most likely contain spoilers from that date if it was a Monday night RAW show.)

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the story itself. The characters are copyright of the WWE, as well as the name, brand, etc, etc. If you steal the story, or the idea (I know that it is unlikely, but it has happened, so I feel I have to warn you guys...) I'll have your story taken down, contact administrators, etc. I understand that ideas are sometimes multiple, so I'd only do this if it was blantatly obvious that it was ripped off. If you got a story idea from this, and it's -kind of- the same, don't be afraid to IM me and ask.

**Distribution:** Lizzy's Lair (soon). If you want this on your site, just IM or e-mail me (in my profile) and I'll give you permission. (All I want is a link and credit...)

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**Initiation Rite**

**Chapter 1**

**10/4/04**

Christy Hemme smiled brightly as she made her way back to the women's locker room. She had just finished her segment with Carmella Decesare, Eric Bischoff, and Eugene. _'I can't believe it! It went off without a hitch, I didn't screw up the script and it was just...wow!' _she thought to herself, and giggled. She was still struck with amazement by the feeling of being in that ring, performing. Sure, she hadn't gotten a _match _yet, but it was all to come. Thousands of screaming fans around her... _'Wow,' _she repeated in her head again, unable to keep the smile off of her face.

'_I can't wait to meet everyone!' _Christy thought as she neared the locker room, thankful that she hand't gotten lost. _'I mean, everyone seems really nice. I haven't had the chance to talk to any of the Divas. I talked with Trish for a little bit after our segment, but not anything besides that.'_ She was still smiling when she pushed the locker room open, flashing a bold smile to Molly Holly, Jazz, Nidia, Trish, and Gail Kim.

"Hey, Christy!" Trish Stratus said happily, stopping in the middle of taking off of her pads. "Awesome segment out there, you really laid a wet one," she giggled. Christy laughed, trying to shrug off the ruffled feeling she instinctively got at Trish's comment. She was just glad that the blonde seemed to like her. "Oh, silly me, I forgot to introduce everyone! This is Molly Holly," Molly nodded, "Nidia, Gail," the two passed a wave toward the new Diva, "and Jazz." Jazz looked up, narrowing her eyes at Christy.

Trish rolled her eyes. "Sorry about that," she said in a fake-whisper. Everyone, including Jazz, could hear her just fine. "Jazz just thinks that you're a big slut, what with agreeing to do the segment last week and this week's kiss," she smiled. "She just doesn't like to accept that, well, some people are sluts."

"Uh, Trish," Christy said with a nervous laugh, "I'm not a slut." And it was true. Sure, she dressed showing her stomach half of the time: but half of the time she was working here or for some other place that required her to do so. She loved a day where she could just wear a baggy shirt and jeans.

Trish's smile fell, and she placed a hand on the redhead's shoulder. "Christy," she said, her voice suddenly icy. "There are a lot of things you have to learn about being here, and a lot of things we should..._teach _you." Suddenly Jazz and Molly were behind her. Christy felt her heart do a double-take, and she stepped back cautiously.

"What do you mean, Trish?" she asked calmly.

All traces of kindness were gone from the face of the Women's Champion. "I mean," she snarled, "that you just can't some waltzing in here because the fans voted you here. We all worked hard to get here. How is it fair that you get in just because some dumbass fans who know nothing thought you were in our league?"

"Excuse you?" Christy couldn't help but let the words out of her mouth. "The fans aren't 'dumbass', as you put it. You were a fan once, though, so maybe _that _explains it."

Trish's hand collided with her face a split second later, and Christy gasped, not expecting the slap. She grabbed the burning side of her face, but stayed on her feet and turned her eyes to Trish. "Bitch, go home," Trish hissed. "Or else."

As Trish stepped back, Jazz grabbed Christy's shirt, slamming her backwards into the lockers. Christy's head snapped back, crashing into the lockers. The redhead whimpered, seeing black and knowing that it was because of her body's shock of the blow. Jazz held her there for a moment, and then let her go, watching as Christy crumpled to the floor. Molly Holly savagely kneed her in the ribs. Christy jerked backwards, her arms encircling her stomach. A cough wracked her body, and pain shot through immediately after. The attacks suddenly ceased. Suddenly, her heavy duffel bag landed on her side. The redhead yelped, curling into herself, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Go home," the deadly whisper sounded again. Christy just continued to gasp for breath, clawing at the ground. The pain that was racking her body would not allow her to respond, and neither would the shock that had enveloped her emotions.

The door to the women's locker room slammed shut as the Divas left, leaving Christy Hemme a beaten mess.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **Wow! Thank you to everyone who reviewed! :) I was unsure in posting this fic at first, but since ya'll seem to like it, I'll continue! Anyway, things will start to really pick up soon, I promise! Well, I'll stop my rant...but please review!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but the story itself.

**Distribution:** Fiery Passion, and eventually Lizzy's Lair.

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**Initiation Rite**

**Chapter 2**

**10/5/04**

"Come on in, Christy," Vince McMahon's voice boomed through the wooden door. The redhead on the other side let out a small breath before turning the doorknob and stepping inside of his office. As was the other times—four, to be exact—she had found herself in his office, it was quite immaculate. The only things on Vince's dark mahogany desk were a few pictures of his wife, daughter, son, and grandbaby, along with a small stack of papers.

"Hi, Mr. McMahon," Chrisy said, slightly nervous. She cleared her throat. _'I am Christy Hemme. Christy Hemme is never nervous. Get it together, girl,' _she told herself sternly.

"I didn't expect to see you so early..." Vince chuckled, "not that it's not a good thing, of course."

Christy pressed a smile. "Well, you see... It's about the other WWE Divas."

"Ah, yes," Vince leaned back in his chair. "They are quite the bunch, aren't they?" he smiled. "I don't know about you, but I'm proud to know they don't allow their attitudes on television to influence their own personalities. In time, you'll have to do the same. Not everyone is allowed the privilege to be themselves in the ring."

Christy sighed heavily, realizing that this was going to be harder than she thought. Last night, she had nursed her wounds as best she could, and retreated to the hotel room, wondering desperately why the Divas would do this to her. It wasn't like she had done anything to them! Sure, maybe she had an easier road to Diva-dom than them, but they could've at least given her a chance to prove herself! They wanted her to go home. Well, she would show them! No one pushed Christy Hemme around, whether she idolized—or had, she wasn't sure anymore—them. She wasn't going to go home, and she wasn't going to stand for this, this hazing. What did Trish and the others expect from her? To either leave, or come in meekly each day, making it her own business to avoid them. It wasn't going to happen. Christy never thought of herself as a tattle-tale, but this was something she felt had to be done. If Vince didn't do anything...then she knew she would, and she didn't want to mix it up backstage already, with everyone's opinions on her still undecided. Nevertheless, either way something was going to change, and it was up to Vince McMahon how it changed.

"So, Christy, what were you going to tell me?" Vince prompted, toying with the corners of the paper on his desk. Christy sighed, shifting in her seat.

"Mr. McMahon, I know this is going to sound really, really... Well... Like a lie," she saw his eyebrows lift only slightly, "but it's true. Will you hear me out?" she asked, and he nodded. Christy let out a breath. "Well, last night, after that segment I did, I came back to the women's locker room, and Trish introduced me around to some of the girls," she paused. "All of a sudden, Trish started calling me a slut, and telling me that I only got in because some, and I quote, 'dumbass fans' voted for me. After she said that, Jazz grabbed me and threw me into the locker, and then she and Molly kept attacking me..." Christy trailed off and looked at Vince. His eyes were shrouded by the shadow cast by his forehead, and she could see no emotion that he portrayed. "I don't want to seem like a tattle-tale, but under my contract, I'm entitled to a safe working environment, right?" she added lamely. "I don't want this to blow into a big thing, but maybe if you said something to them..." she trailed off.

"Christy..." he paused, and stood up, pacing. "What you have come to me with is very disturbing," her eyes followed his movements. "But what is more disturbing is that you started this off with 'this may sound like I'm lying, but...' In my experience, that means you're lying. But I listened anyway, and it's so far-fetched, it's laughable." Christy bit her lip, not saying a word. "We've never had any problems backstage, and I doubt it's starting now," he looked down at her. "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, though, Christy. Fact is, I can't do anything without genuine proof that the Divas are doing anything to you," he narrowed his eyes. "And if you are lying, I'd suggest you pack your bags and go home."

_Go home. _It was the same thing that Trish had told her. Christy stood up abruptly, her jaw clenching. The chair she'd been sitting in rolled backward a little. "Thank you for your time," she said, her voice monotone. With that, she turned on her heel and walked out the door, letting the door slam shut in its frame. A scowl marred her features as she briskly walked out of the building and onto the sidewalk.

It was obvious that Vince McMahon was not going to help her.

She was on her own.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **I'm so sorry for lack of updates! I hope you like this chapter, and sorry it's a little short! Thanks to everyone who reviewed and please continue to do so!

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**Initiation Rite**

**Chapter 3**

**10/11/04**

"They've got something else coming to them if they think that they can make me run with my tail between my legs," Christy snarled aloud as she stepped from her rental car. She tossed her hair behind her shoulders, facing the doors to the arena with determination heavy in her eyes. The redhead locked her car twice, walking the short distance to the doors into the arena. She had chosen not to acknowledge it earlier, but she knew that she had parked far closer than she normally would have, just as she'd left an extra change of clothes in the car instead of taking it all in the duffel bag hanging over her shoulder. _'I'm just being careful,' _Christy thought as she walked, her stilettos clacking on the cool pavement. _'There's a difference between careful and scared. And for that matter, I'd rather be careful than stupid.' _New as she was, Christy was not stupid. If she went about her general routine—as she was going to—she would be leaving her bag in the locker room in plain access to the other Divas. It was obvious that, by the end of the night, anything she had in there would be ruined in some way. Shrugging, Christy pushed one of the doors open. She had extra clothes in her car, and it wasn't like anyone here hadn't ever seen her in her bra and panties.

"Hello," the burly security guard said gruffly.

"Hi," Christy replied instinctively, smiling as she handed him her ID.

"Christy Hemme..." he murmured, going through the list of people to be allowed access that was on his clipboard. With a long scrawl, he checked off her name.

"Thanks," Christy said when he gave her back her card. Her pace was brisk as she walked to the General Manager's office, intent on getting her script for the night before heading to the women's locker room. As usual, there was a table set up beside the door to Eric Bischoff's locker room with two stagehands behind it, handing out the scripts. Christy sighed, realizing that Trish Stratus was there already, waiting for one of the women to find her script.

Christy walked up to the woman who wasn't looking for Trish's script and pushed forth a small smile that only lasted for the moment before the woman started looking in the pile for her script. Not particularly wanting to stand side-by-side by Trish—and knowing the situation was a ticking time bomb—Christy was trying hard not to become agitated that her script hadn't been found yet. She found herself sliding side glances toward the blonde bombshell next to her. _'How easy would it be to punch that smirk off of her face?' _Christy wondered, and an instant later was shocked that she had the thought. Shaking her head, Christy reminded herself that all was fair in love and war, and this was most assuredly war.

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe you're scheduled for anything tonight," the woman spoke up finally, shrugging. Christy frowned. She could deal with not being scheduled, but she didn't want to be informed with Trish in hearing range.

"Oh, looks like**somebody's** not scheduled for a segment today," Trish said, turning to Christy with a sickeningly fake sympathetic look. She flipped through her script and laughed, the sound screeching in Christy's ears. "Would you look at that! A title match!"

Christy saw red. She had always been the energetic, hyper one that simply brushed off insults, but Trish Stratus had gotten under her skin. Somehow, she knew that Trish had something to do with her not being scheduled tonight, and it bothered her to no end. "And let me guess, Trish, it's versus Stacy or Nidia," Christy spoke, knowing it was true. She smirked as Trish cocked her head, her upper lip curled. "Yeah, I thought so. The writers would never put you in a title match against Victoria or Jazz or Molly because, you know, the WWE tries to be as realistic as possible, and God knows that you would lose your title within the blink of an eye if you were put up against them." Trish's eyes narrowed and she stepped closer to Christy. Christy looked at her, her eyes betraying annoyance rather than intimidation.

"Listen, bitch, you don't belong in the same building as me," Trish declared, snarling. "You can go around and try and play with us big girls, but I _suggest _to you that you turn tail and learn what your role is—eye candy."

"And what would you say if I told you to rot in hell?" Christy asked calmly.

Trish's head snapped back to Christy. The blonde took a step and shoved Christy powerfully. Christy stumbled back a few steps. She took a moment to compose herself before slowly lifting her furious blue eyes to meet Trish. Trish took a small step backward, but Christy leapt forward, throwing all of her muscle into a loud slap across Trish's face. The Women's Champion let out a gasp as she fell against the wooden table next to them, holding her face. Christy glared at her triumphantly for a moment before turning around and heading to the women's locker room. There was a grunt behind her, and Christy turned.

The last thing she remembered was a blurred gold object heading straight for her forehead.


End file.
